


I Don't Care

by eating_custardinbed



Category: IT Crowd
Genre: ALL THE FLUFF, Betting, Flashbacks, Fluff, Getting Together, I Ship It, I love their dynamic, M/M, No Angst, Party, SO MUCH FLUFF, Songfic, cuteness, inspired by a song, they're both oblivious as fuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:08:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23666641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eating_custardinbed/pseuds/eating_custardinbed
Summary: **inspired by 'I Don't Care' by Ed Sheeran and Justin Bieber**A party, a betting ring and a couple... who will win?Just a fluffy Moss/Roy fic, because there really aren't enough of them!!
Relationships: Jen Barber & Maurice Moss & Roy Trenneman, Maurice Moss/Roy Trenneman
Comments: 10
Kudos: 41





	I Don't Care

**Author's Note:**

> Hallo!! I am still appalled by the lack of fics for this pairing lmao. This has been in my WIPs for like a month, but I finally finished it!! I hope you enjoy! Also, I'm kinda ignoring the final episode here: just imagine a different timeline that splits off from the canon of the show.

Of all the places Roy could have been that night, Douglas’ celebratory party for avoiding yet another lawsuit from the shareholders was definitely bottom of the list. 

Alas, there he was, standing in a corner, clutching a Bicardi and Cuke and trying not to drift off into a coma. The music was blaring, the dance floor was packed and his virtually unused suit was itchy as hell. He was ninety-nine percent sure there were some strippers roaming around somewhere—it was a party organised by Douglas, after all—but for once, he didn’t care. 

Because he had Moss now. 

Before, all of his relationships always seemed to be… lacking something. He’d dated countless women, had many relationships lasting between ten minutes and a good six months, and yet nothing ever really clicked properly. Yet with Moss… they’d known each other since university, been friends the entire time, even applied for their jobs at Reynholm Industries together. If you’d told Roy then that a few years down the line he’d be dating his nerdy university classmate, he would have laughed in your face and asked you if you’d been drinking. Now, he was happier than ever before. 

Well, not _now_ now, but you get the idea. 

Moss had disappeared about half an hour back, swallowed up by the crowds on the dancefloor. Without him, Roy was truly considering sneaking out the back, going to Moss’ and waiting with the man’s poor worried overprotective mother until he resurfaced, drunk, apologetic and hopefully in one piece. He was staring at the floor, trying as hard as he could not to meet anyone’s eye. Not that they were meeting his. 

Out of nowhere, there was a hand on his. He wouldn’t have even noticed if it hadn’t been so cold that it made him gasp and look up. 

It was Moss, of course. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were bright. The alcohol seemed to have loosened him up a little: he was grinning and he even had his top button undone. 

Smiling at the Irishman, Moss clumsily took the drink from his hand and downed it in one. Roy fought off giggles as Moss valiantly tried not to spit it out, as it clearly was not to his delicate taste. He did have to give up eventually, and not-too-neatly spat it back into the glass. Roy gave him the first genuine smile he’d given anyone that night as he smothered a chuckle. 

“Do you want to dance, Roy?” Moss shouted, leaning forward as he did so. Roy laughed, reaching forward and fixing his best friend’s askew glasses. 

“Yes, I would love to dance,” he said, letting Moss take his hand and lead him to the dance floor. 

Typically, the second they got on the dancefloor the DJ decided it was the perfect moment to switch to a lovey-dovey slow dance song. Of course, everybody was pairing off, so it was only natural that they went off together. 

“I love you, you know,” Roy murmured in Moss’ ear. The other man blushed, looking down at the sticky dancefloor as they swayed along to the music. 

“I know,” he mumbled back, flashing Roy a shy smile. “You told me just before we left your house.” 

“Yes, but I wanted to tell you again,” Roy said. He looked quickly around, almost suspiciously. Once he had, he didn’t seem to relax at all. “I really don’t think I fit in here, Moss.” 

“Why not?” Moss asked, cocking his head to the side. Roy gestured around with one hand. 

“They’ve all got so much to say,” he replied. “They make me feel like… I don’t know, like I’m not really anybody.” 

All around them, people were _mm_ ing and _ahh_ ing, and some were even pointing at them, whispering to their peers. Roy sucked in a deep breath, focusing on the curve of Moss’ body against his. 

“Well, who wants to fit in anyway?” Moss eventually said. Roy grinned, shrugging as the music swelled and dipped. 

Gently, they rested their foreheads together. Roy timidly wrapped his arms around Moss’ waist, relishing in the smile he got from the other man. At that moment, all the bad things seemed to disappear and it was just the two of them on the dancefloor. Whatever other people thought of them didn’t matter anymore. Roy just… didn’t care anymore. When he was with Moss, he didn’t feel small or insignificant or like he didn’t quite belong. He’d never been very good with feelings, but he felt like he was somebody, somehow. All those bad nights that he had, when it seemed as if there was nothing good left in the world, he could deal with them when Moss was there. 

Feeling bold, he pressed a gentle kiss into the crook of Moss’ neck, and quietly delighted in the small gasp and squeeze of affection he got back. 

**_On the other side of the dancefloor…_ **

“Twenty quid!” 

“Oh come off it, Jen,” Douglas boomed, his voice as imposing as ever. Jen gave him a look, and then turned back to Richmond, grinning. 

“I’m telling you,” she said. The goth smirked, nodding. “Twenty quid on it.” 

“Twenty quid on what?” Mandy, the attractive redhead from ninth, asked, coming to a stop next to them. Douglas opened his mouth, presumably to say something obscenely sexual, but a stern look from Jen forced him to shut it again. 

“Oh, nothing,” Jen replied airily. “Just some stupid little thing.” 

“She reckons that Ross and Moy are _dating_!” Douglas blurted with a deep chuckle. “How stupid is that!?” 

“Okay, I’d like in,” Mandy said. There was a sly smile on her face. “A fiver says they are.” 

“Hah!” 

“ _WHAT!_?” 

This was voiced by an enraged Douglas. All he got in return was a smug smirk from Jen. 

**_Back on the dancefloor…_ **

“I never want to let go of you,” Roy mumbled, careful to keep his voice just that tiniest bit lower than the music. 

“That would be counterintuitive, Roy,” Moss whispered back. “We wouldn’t be able to do anything, and I love you, but--” 

“Keep your voice down!” the Irishman hissed. Then a smile broke through his barriers and he looked down. “You know what I mean. You could take me anywhere right now and I wouldn’t complain.” He paused. “Unless it was a balloon factory.” 

Moss let out a proper little giggle, flashing Roy a bright smile. It was really a beautiful sight to see, Roy thought. A real natural wonder, was a smiling Moss. 

Yes, that smile could do wonders, even on a bad night. 

_“Roy? Why are you up?”_

_Roy startled from where he had been sitting in a frozen, trance-like state in front of the television. It wasn’t anything terribly interesting, just a shitty late-night infomercial for yet another random JML contraption, and yet Roy had been almost completely captivated by it. Maybe it was the mundanity?_

_Whatever it was, it didn’t matter now because Moss was asking him a question. He looked up from the television, plastering on an awkward-looking fake smile. Moss looked truly adorable: hair unparted, wearing clothes he’d pilfered from Roy and still half-asleep, with his glasses slipping down his nose._

_“Just couldn’t sleep,” the Irishman said, waving a hand around. “Don’t worry about it.” He stopped, glancing at the clock. “Why are_ you _up? It’s half past two in the morning, and you know what you’re like at work if you don’t get enough sleep.”_

_Moss shrugged, coming over to sit next to Roy on the sofa._

_“The telly woke me up,” he replied. He stifled a yawn and then leant his head on Roy’s shoulder. “I got cold without you there.”_

_Roy’s heart just about burst right on the spot. He slipped his arm around his boyfriend, pressing a kiss into his curls._

_“I’m sorry, baby,” he said. “But you know what it’s like.”_

_“No, I don’t,” Moss replied sleepily. Roy paused for a moment. “Will you explain it to me?”_

_“S-sure,” Roy spluttered. He had to take a moment to gather his scattered thoughts before he continued. “It’s like, ahh… it’s just, like, when things get a bit on top of you, y’know? Everything’s just a little bit loud and horrible, and you’ve just… gotta calm down, ya know?”_

_“And that means watching Teleshopping at half past two in the morning?” Moss asked. He sounded even more tired than before, and he was starting to snuggle into Roy._

_“Sometimes, yeah.”_

_There was a pause, where the only noise was the overly-jolly voice blaring from the television._

_“I think I understand that,” Moss said. Roy smiled a little._

_“Come on,” he said as he clicked the TV off. “Let’s get you to bed before you do your back in.”_

“You _are_ a silly sausage, Roy!” Moss laughed. Roy grinned, holding him as tight and as close as possible. They continued to dance in a little world of their own until the song drew to a beautiful and appropriately soulful end and the DJ switched to some heavy bass pop song. 

“Come on,” Roy shouted over the din, taking Moss’ hand in a bold move he wasn’t quite sure he was comfortable with. “Let’s get drinks.” 

**_At the edge of the dancefloor…_ **

Jen craned her neck as she tried to peer over the sea of people descending on the dancefloor to see the IT boys. Just as she was about to give up, she spotted Roy’s bright orange t-shirt he’d been forced to wear tonight after the toaster incident in the office. Then she looked down. 

“They’re holding hands!” she exclaimed triumphantly, waving to the others that were putting money in Richmond’s top hat. “They are _holding_ hands!”

“That doesn’t mean they’re together,” Douglas said as he polished off yet another Jagerbomb. “It just means they’re pissed off their tits!” 

“I know them, Douglas,” Jen replied. She took a measured breath through her nose, reminding herself that they didn’t have wine in prison. “Trust me, they’re together.”

**_At the bar…_ **

The alcohol was really starting to take its toll on Moss now. 

Without Roy there to steady him, he was struggling to walk. All around him, everything was blurry, like when he took his glasses off and wasn’t really paying attention. If he was being honest, the music was a little too loud, and Roy’s shirt _was_ a little off-putting, and he really did want nothing more than to go home, climb into Roy’s bed and get a decent night’s sleep before work the next morning. 

He clung to Roy’s hand like a lifeline, a lifeline that was guiding him towards the crowded bar. 

“What do ya want?” Roy shouted over the din. Moss, who hadn’t been paying attention, started, and then scrunched his nose in confusion. 

“What?” he yelled back.

“WHAT,” Roy repeated. “DO. YOU. WANT?” 

“Um… a Jagerbomb, please.” 

Roy gave him a strange look. 

“Are you sure?” he asked. “They’re quite strong.” 

“It’s what I’ve been drinking all night,” Moss replied, nonplussed. Roy nodded, making a small _ahh_ noise. 

“Right, I’ll get you a lemonade,” he said. Moss pouted, exaggeratedly sticking his bottom lip out and giving what Roy called the _puppy-dog eyes_. “Don’t look at me like that, we’ve got work tomorrow!” 

Moss continued to pout, but nodded. Roy started to say something else, but at that moment the noise swelled and the rest of the alcohol seemed to hit all at once. Desperately, he tried to read his boyfriend’s lips, but he’d never really been very good at that. Even as a little kid, when he used to try and read his parent’s lips through the mirror in the car when they were having their whispered conversations about him. He was resisting the urge to pitch forward and kiss Roy right on the lips. He couldn’t, of course. Not in front of all these people. 

There really were a lot of people, wasn’t there? 

People, people, people all around them. They were all jostling-- to get exactly where Moss wasn’t sure-- and drinking and being unnecessarily loud. He was doing his best not to clamp his hands over his ears to filter, or at least muffle, some of the noise, but it was getting more and more difficult not to. 

Whatever. It wasn’t like they could have gotten out of it. 

_It had been a perfectly ordinary Monday down in the basement. As always, Jen had been a good forty-five minutes late, Roy twenty; only Moss had been on time. In the absence of the Relationship Manager, the two had shared a quick kiss when Roy walked in and had then eaten their breakfast (a bowl of Smarties ‘cereal’ each) together in front of the television, as was their Monday morning custom._

_However, that had all been thrown into disarray when Jen stumbled in and threw two envelopes in their general direction._

_“I’m not happy about it either,” she proclaimed before they had a chance to open the letters. She collapsed down on the armchair, and then eyed the two of them, sitting so close that their knees were touching, suspiciously. “What are you two doing?”_

_“Having breakfast,” Roy replied._

_“Having what?”_

_“...Smarties cereal,” the Irishman said, addressing the floor rather than Jen. Moss, too, looked down guiltily. Jen tutted and shook her head._

_“I swear you’re both twelve,” she said. “Are you going to open the letters, then?”_

_“We_ will _!” Roy exclaimed, getting up and clicking the TV off before collecting the bowls and walking towards the kitchenette. “Why does it matter, anyway? It’s prob’ly nothing, just like always.”_

_“Just wait ‘til you read it,” Jen replied with a grimace._

_That piqued the boys’ attention. Moss looked up from the piece of circuit board he’d been fidgeting with, and Roy poked his head out of the kitchenette door. Reaching forward, Moss picked up one of the fallen envelopes, opening it with careful precision and scanning its contents. He let out a disappointed, irritated huff._

_“It’s a_ party _invite,” he said his voice full of loathing. Roy made a face, and then disappeared back into the kitchenette._

_“Gonna have to pass on that one, Jen,” he said._

_“You can’t,” Jen murmured._

_“What!?” Moss exclaimed, dropping his piece of circuit board on the floor where it shattered into four jagged parts. “Why not?”_

_“Douglas wants everyone there,” she said. “Even talking about docking pay from anyone who doesn’t show up.”_

_“Can he even do that?” Roy asked as he came back into the office, now sipping a coffee. Jen shrugged._

_“Probably not legally, but he will anyway.”_

_Roy groaned, sitting down heavily at his desk and giving his mouse a few half-hearted clicks._

_“Can we just check in then sneak out the back?” he eventually asked._

_“No, it's a minimum two hour attendance with CCTV checks.”_

_“Why?” Roy shouted. Moss jumped on the sofa. Roy consciously tried to lower his voice as he said, “why does the man need absolutely_ everyone _in this massive building at one party? It just doesn’t make any_ sense _!”_

_“Neither does anything else Douglas does,” Jen replied dryly. “I’m going to go into my office and have a quick nap, try not to burn the office down.”_

_Before either of them could reply, she was up and gone, leaving them to worry to nothing more than each other and a closed door._

“Moss?” Roy called, bringing Moss out of his thoughts. “You alright?” 

“Yep,” Moss said rather unconvincingly. Roy gave him a look, handing him his lemonade before grasping his arm and leading his to the only quiet spot in the room. 

“Look, I know it’s loud,” the Irishman said. “Do you want to--” 

“You know what,” Moss interrupted loudly. “It’s kind of crazy, because I really don’t mind. You make it better like that.” 

Roy gave him a soft smile, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and kissing his head. 

“God, I love you,” he said gruffly. 

“I think I finally get what you were saying about not fitting in,” Moss said. His voice was beginning to slur again, and he kept stumbling into Roy despite the fact he was doing no more than shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “And I know I said we shouldn’t have come,” (this was true. The second they had walked into the party, Moss had turned to Roy and demanded that they leave immediately. Roy’s gentle reminder that the bills needed paying by Monday was the only reason they were still there). “But… I think we should stay.” 

“What?” Roy said. He looked confused as he furrowed his brow. “Like… past the mandatory time?” 

Moss nodded. 

“We can’t let upstairs push us around any more,” he said. “We have to… I don’t know, stand up for ourselves!” 

“God, you really _are_ drunk,” Roy laughed. Taking his hand, he kissed it gently and then pulled him back over to the dance floor. Ed Sheeran was playing: _Thinking Out Loud_. Hands resting on each others’ waists, they tried to dance a little to it, but they were both so drunk that it looked more like they were tripping over each other rather than a waltz, or indeed any sort of recognisable dance. They didn’t care, though. They had each other, and that meant all embarrassment, all the other people’s opinions, didn’t care. 

It was just like when they first got together. 

_The trial had been utter hell. For both of them._

_Finally, Mrs Reynholm had backed down, yielding to £70 million and saving them any further humiliation on the stand. When the gavel went down, signalling the end of the trial, they both let out a sigh of relief._

_“Want to play some video games tonight?” Roy asked as they walked out of the courtroom. Moss, readjusting his glasses, nodded._

_“I just got Mario Kart on the Nintendo 64,” he said. “And my mother’s making pizza. She says you’re welcome to join us.”_

_“Did she really sue you?” Roy said. He hailed a cab, letting Moss get in first before clambering in and giving the driver Moss’ address._

_“Yes,” Moss replied almost conversationally. “We’d only had the patio door for two weeks, and it had been quite expensive. Also, I didn’t tell them, so my father ended up cutting his foot on a shard of glass I forgot to pick up and they had to spend a long time in Accident and Emergency.”_

_“Jesus,” Roy muttered._

_“As I said, it was mostly a show trial,” the other replied. “I didn’t really say much.”_

_Roy nodded, and they plunged into a comfortable silence as the cab trundled along. Every so often, they would steal glances at each other, looking away just before the other looked up. Eventually, Roy said,_

_“Your mum’s making pizza, did you say?”_

_“Yes,” Moss said. “Celebration of the end of the trial.”_

_“Yeah, how did she react when you got back the other day?” Roy asked, hedging his bets a little. Moss had been a mess after he’d had to testify, and the Irishman had had to take him back home, as he was clearly incapable of doing it himself. Moss shifted in his seat, shrugging a little._

_“She wasn’t happy with Mr Reynholm,” he simply said._

No, I wouldn’t imagine she would be, _Roy thought, but kept it to himself._

_They were quiet until they got to Moss’. Roy sighed internally as they walked up the garden path and Moss messed with his keys, trying to find the right one. Talking to Moss’ mother was always a trial, as she always seemed to be very suspicious of him for no particular reason. She was very protective over Moss, and in a way Roy sort of understood: Moss was her only child, and if what she’d told him the other night was correct, she’d been told he had autism so severe that he’d never be in any way independent, so it was a miracle he was in work and had some sort of life outside of his family home at all._

_“I’m home, mum!” Moss called as they walked into the house. Roy concentrated on his shoelaces as the woman herself came into the hallway. “I brought Roy with me, I hope you don’t mind.”_

_“Of course not, poppet,” she said, giving her son a hug. Moss stood there awkwardly, letting it happen: this was clearly a common occurrence. “How was the trial?”_

_“Fine,” Moss replied. “Mrs Reynholm settled for £70 million, and Mr Reynholm seemed fine with that.”_

_“Did you hear that, Jerry?” Moss’ mum called back into the kitchen. Her loud voice made both Moss and Roy wince._

_“Hear what, Gillian?” Jerry--Moss’ father--called back, appearing in the doorway. He was a big, burly gentleman, born in Nigeria “but made in London” he always said._

_“That silly trial is finally over,” she replied. “£70 million to the wretched woman in the end, can you believe it?”_

_“More money than sense, some people,” Jerry grunted, taking a sip of tea. He raised his mug when he saw Roy. “Alright, Roy? How are things?”_

_“Good, thank you, sir,” Roy murmured, staring fixedly at the floor. “And yourself?”_

_“Not too bad, thanks,” he replied. He glanced over at Moss, who was fidgeting around with his hands and bouncing around on the balls of his feet, and said, “you boys head on upstairs, dinner should be ready by seven.”_

_They both nodded and hot-footed it upstairs. Moss carefully closed the door behind him. Roy let out a loud sigh as he sat himself down on the beanbag that Moss always kept in the middle of his floor._

_“God, those conversations with your father are always so_ awkward _,” he said, glancing up at Moss, who was standing awkwardly by the door. “You alright?”_

_The other seemed to come back to himself, nodding and moving forward to sit on the bed._

_“Yeah, fine,” he said. “Shall we play Mario?”_

_Roy nodded._

_They played in relative silence for a good half an hour, only talking to taunt the other on their spectacular loss. This tended to be Moss to Roy, but the Irishman had a reason. He just couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off of Moss. The whole time. He was captivating, and Roy just wasn’t sure why. Until he had a thought…_

_“Hey, Moss, come ‘ere,” he said after another dismal loss. Moss laughed and shook his head._

_“You’ll only try to sabotage me!” he said smugly. Roy sighed, heaving himself off of the beanbag and plonking himself down on the bed next to his best friend. “Roy?” Moss said, sounding nervous. “What are you doing?”_

_In answer, Roy leant forward and pressed his lips to Moss’._

_Moss’ lips were surprisingly soft, Roy thought. And they tasted a bit like strawberries. They were… nice. Moss let out a squeak, dropping his controller on his lap. Roy quickly broke away, looking down at the bedspread._

_“God, I’m so sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to--”_

_Before he could finish his sentence, however, Moss had grabbed his face with both hands and was kissing him again. Caught a little by surprise, it took a moment before Roy absolutely melted, wrapping his arms around Moss’ waist. The game lay forgotten, the obnoxious music playing in the background as they kissed and kissed and kissed, barely breaking away for air._

_So, of course, they didn’t hear the door open, or Gillian walk in, until she cleared her throat behind them._

_They flew apart so fast it could barely be seen. Roy lost his balance, as he had been sat on the edge of the bed, and fell to the floor. Moss jumped back, only the bedframe saving him from the same fate as Roy._

_“Mum!” Moss said far louder than was necessary. “What are you… doing, you… weren’t… supposed… to be… here!”_

_His speech was odd and stilted, as if he didn’t quite know what was coming out of his mouth, and his eyes were glued to the floor. Roy didn’t dare look up at Gillian, more for fear for his life than any embarrassment. Gillian looked from Roy to Moss, then from Moss to Roy._

_“Roy, I just wanted to know what you want on your pizza,” she said, cool as anything. When Roy began to splutter and gesture wildly, she smirked and turned to her son. “Could you not have waited just a month more, Maurice?”_

_At this, both of the boys looked up at her, confused. She chuckled to herself. “Now I owe your father fifty quid.”_

_Turning on her heel, she sashayed out of the room, calling “You win, Jerry!” down the stairs as she did so._

_For a good twenty seconds, neither of them moved. They hardly breathed. Eventually, Roy looked up at Moss, who had silent tears flowing down his cheeks._

_“Moss…” Roy said gently._

_“It wasn’t supposed to happen like that,” Moss murmured. He barely moved as he said this. “It was… I had it all planned.”_

_“You had… this,” Roy gestured around again. “Planned?”_

_“No, not this exact scenario!” Moss snapped back. “Coming out. I…”_

_He took a deep breath, looking down at his lap and his fidgeting hands. Roy hauled himself up off the floor, sitting down on the bed next to his best friend and gingerly resting his hand on Moss’ cheek._

_“How long have you been thinking about this?” he asked softly. Moss finally looked up at him with red rimmed eyes._

_“For as long as I can remember,” he admitted._

_Roy leant forward and kissed him tenderly, gently. Moss reciprocated, his hands instantly finding their way to Roy’s hair. The Irishman could feel the other’s tears dripping onto his own cheeks. Almost unwillingly, Roy pulled away, settling for brushing Moss’ tears away with his thumb._

_“Talk to me,” he said, voice soft._

_“I didn’t want to disappoint them,” Moss said after a moment, sniffing deeply. “Mum… she’s always been so attached to the idea of grandchildren. And, and dad always used to say about finding the perfect girl.”_

_“Your mum seemed alright with it when she came in,” Roy said with a shrug. Moss looked at him like he’d just grown a third eye._

_“She sounded furious,” he said, his voice hushed. There was a moment of silence, and then Roy said,_

_“I think she was just joking.”_

_“She was… joking?”_

_“Yeah,” he said. “I think she already kind of knew.”_

_“So…” Moss said, sniffing again and wiping his eyes with shaking hands. “She’s alright with it?”_

_“Yeah, I think so.”_

_Moss smiled, a little cheeky smile, before pulling Roy into a tight hug. Roy stopped for a moment before wrapping his arms around his best friend and returning the hug._

**_Back at the edge of the dancefloor…_ **

“There’s only one way to settle this!” Jen announced to the crowded table. In front of her and Richmond sat nearly five hundred pounds in notes and coins, along with a list. Twenty said no: five said yes. Jen was set to earn a hundred quid from this, and there were a new pair of shoes with her name on them. They had to be dating, she was sure of it! She knew her nerds… didn’t she? “If they’re dating, then we try to get them to kiss! If they do, they are. If they don’t, then they aren’t. Simple!” 

“But how?” Richmond asked, sipping his absinthe. “You know they’re both stubborn as horses.” 

“Yes,” Jen said with a smile. “But they’re both drunk off their tits.” 

**_On the dancefloor…_ **

“I don’t really like anybody but you,” Moss whispered as they danced, clutching on to each other. “It’s like you’re the only one here, and I don’t care.” 

“I hate everyone here, I don’t like any of them except you, baby,” Roy said quietly back. They squeezed each other tightly, and then leaned back to look each other in the eyes. Roy glanced around and tilted his head slightly. Moss nodded almost imperceptibly. 

In unison, just as the music swelled, they leant forward and pressed their lips together. 

Instantly, a chorus of cheers and groans rose around them. Roy was sure he heard Jen scream something about winning something, and Moss thought he heard Douglas shouting something about knowing all along, and he’d just been trying to trick them all. They both laughed as they broke apart, holding each other closer than ever as they looked around. Jen and Richmond were grinning at them. The pretty girls from the seventh floor were smiling at them too with their thumbs up. Some people were angrily throwing money into the already considerable pile on the table, which they could tell Jen was keeping a close eye on. 

“Love you,” Moss giggled. 

Everything was going to be alright, because they just didn’t care. 

***

The next morning, Jen strode into work feeling triumphant. With her share of the winnings, she’d not only got the shoes she’d wanted, but also some decent foundation. Not only that, but Moss and Roy were _dating_! She’d watched those two idiots dance around each other for years now, and had been wondering when they’d get their heads out of their arses and get together already. She needed details! 

When she got to the basement, she saw that only Moss seemed to be there. He was sitting at his desk, looking pale and haggard, staring into a glass of water like he was having some deep existential crisis. _First proper hangover,_ she thought with a pang of sympathy. 

“Morning, Moss!” she said brightly anyway, because she needed answers. Moss replied with a few indeterminate mumblings, accompanied with a groan or two. “Hungover?” 

“Why on _earth_ do you people enjoy this!?” he replied suddenly and explosively, looking up at her with fury in his eyes. “It's the worst thing in the world!” 

“This part is, yeah,” she said with a grimace. Slowly, she came forward and perched on the edge of his desk. He gave her a strange look, sipping his water with a wince as he put one hand to his temple. “So…” she said, grinning and wiggling her eyebrows at him. He shook his head a little, giving her an even stranger look. “You and Roy, then?” 

Watching Moss’ eyes light up at the mere mention of Roy’s name brought Jen a strange sense of happiness. She smiled at him, tilting her head slightly. 

“Oh yes, Roy and I are very well, thank you,” he said, a dreamy smile on his face. “Yes, very well indeed.” 

“Oh, I’m so pleased for you two!” she exclaimed, gently clapping him on the shoulder. 

“Yes, we went back to his last night after the party and--” 

At that moment, there was a terrific amount of banging and crashing. Jen looked up just in time to see Roy leapfrog over his desk and sprint across the office to dive over Moss’ desk and press his hand against his lover’s mouth. 

“We watched a film!” he said, much much louder than was necessary. There were beads of sweat on his forehead, and he looked incredibly nervous. Jen laughed, hopping off of Moss’ desk and going over to sit on the armchair. Roy took his hand slowly from a decidedly frightened-looking Moss’ mouth and sat down where Jen had been just moments before. 

“You two, then?” she said with a smile. They nodded, lacing their fingers together. “It was always on the cards, wasn’t it?” 

“What d’you mean?” Roy asked, looking confused. Jen let out a barking laugh: she couldn’t help herself. Really? Was she _really_ having to answer this question? 

“Well, do you remember when you accidentally became a getaway driver for that robbery?” she said. They both nodded. “And you ended up kissing--twice--against a garage? And Moss, you tried to kiss him again when you stole those Grand Design DVDs?” 

“Yeah, but those were distraction techniques!” Roy said with a nervous laugh. 

“And remember when you made that nerd calendar, and spent nearly two hours taking pictures of Moss for it?” 

Roy spluttered, turning redder by the second. Moss was giggling, looking down at his desk. 

“She is right Roy,” he said matter-of-factly. Roy looked up at him, giving him a pleading look. Moss shrugged, freeing his hand to take another drink of water. “What? She is right!” 

“Alright then,” Roy said. “Why didn’t you say anything?” 

Jen shrugged her shoulders. 

“Thought you’d figure it out eventually,” she said. Then another question popped into her head. She leant forward, fixing them with a look. “So have you two… you know…” 

She gestured awkwardly in the air with her hands. They both gave her confused looks, and she let out a frustrated sigh. It was like the Aunt Irma business all over again! 

“Have we what?” Moss asked. She winced as she said, 

“Well, you know… most couples have and you know… oh it’s silly, just forget--” 

“OH!” the other two said at the exact same, a look of slight panic on both of their faces. Moss blushed and looked away from all of them, and Roy went even paler than normal and jabbered a little. Jen gasped, jumping up. 

“Oh my God!” she exclaimed. She opened her mouth to say something, then clearly thought better of it and closed it again. She shook her head as she got up. She gave them one last look before staggering into her office and slamming the door behind. 

There was utter silence in the office for a few moments. Then: 

“Well that went well, didn’t it?” 

Roy sighed, looking at his boyfriend. Moss looked so cheery again, and he didn’t have the heart to correct him. He leant forward and pecked him on the lips. 

“Of course it did,” he said with a smile. “It went perfectly.”

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it!! Hopefully I might have another Moss/Roy fic on the way, but we'll see how my writing schedule goes. Please leave kudos and comments, they really make my day!!  
> Love you all, stay safe and look after yourselves xx


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